


Colder Weather

by timber_is_my_legacy



Category: The X-Files
Genre: 1800s AU, Angst, F/M, Happy Ending, Inspired by Music, Love, Love Story, Romance, Songfic, Wanderlust, Wild West, basically a short story, but with chapters, colder weather, i love you but i leave you, mulder is a wanderer, ranch life, written in notepad, zac brown band - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24298213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timber_is_my_legacy/pseuds/timber_is_my_legacy
Summary: For Fox Mulder it's always been easier to run than get attached to others. He only hurts those around him. Leaving Virginia was hard, but leaving her was harder. The second time around just might tear him in two.A Western AU
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 18
Kudos: 59





	1. He Said I Wanna See You Again

**Author's Note:**

> I had known the song "Colder Weather" for a long time. But recently, in the past year or so, I have been creating several X-Files, mainly MSR AUs, that I love. While most of them are longer, with a longer plot, this one was always intended to be a short story. It will be in three intervals and was written in notepad, mainly because I love to write them like I am an author from the 90s, posting to archives and forums. I love the old Notepad style in so many older X-Files fanfics. 
> 
> This is a minimalistic fic. There is tiny leaps between scenes, there is less descriptive language, and not everything is included so that you might be able to imagine what you will between. This is purely a short romance story, that I mainly have written for my own enjoyment and thought I could share.

"He said I wanna see you again,  
But I'm stuck in colder weather,  
Maybe tomorrow will be better,  
Can I call you then?

She said you're a ramblin' man,  
and you ain't ever gonna change,  
you got a gypsy soul to blame,  
and you were born for leavin'"

\- Colder Weather, Zac Brown Band

-

Evening, Scully Homestead  
A few miles outside Telluride, Colorado  
April, 1885

-

He was tired of walking, having been dropped off halfway from Denver. Telluride wasn't small, but it wasn't Denver either. He liked the boom town feel, but he wondered if it would only be a matter of time before it was a ghost town. There was too many already in their country. Little towns that believed that they found coal or gold before they exhausted their supplies and people moved on. People always moved on. 

He asked for directions from someone outside the general store and the man pointed him down the road away from Telluride, further into the mountains. If he had enough money, he'd buy a horse to get there. He'd barely had enough to pay the man with a wagon. He pulled his satchel tighter around his shoulder and made the trek up the road, shivering as the night settled in. 

He saw the homestead as the night fell. A few lanterns glowed outside, the big barn illuminated similarly off to the side, the cabins of the hands glowing at each doorway. He took in a soft breath and approached the front door, letting his knuckles rap softly. 

The door opened to reveal a tall, balding man. He stared for a moment, looking confused in the dim light before he suddenly broke into a grin. "Young Fox Mulder," he greeted. "Come in, come in."

Mulder allowed the big man to welcome him with a hug as he shut the door behind him. "Mr. Scully," He greeted. "I'm sorry I arrived so late, I had to walk-"

"Mulder?"

Both men turned to the staircase where a young woman stood, her hair mussed and eyes blinking sleepily. The last time he'd seen her, she was fifteen, he was sixteen and she was watching him from the porch as he rode on a covered wagon to California, leaving Virginia forever. 

He'd been coming through Utah territory a few months ago when he'd heard mention of another group that had come not too long ago and one of the families had broken off to settle in Telluride. He'd heard the name Scully. He dug a little deeper and discovered that they had been living in Telluride for a few years now and Mr. Scully successfully owned a ranch in the mountains. 

It had been seven years since he'd seen them. He hadn't realized how much he missed them until he'd seen the ranch glowing in the night. He hadn't realized how much he missed her until she stood now in that doorway. 

If when they were kids he thought she was cute, her freckles bright on her nose against her porcelain skin, then she was now beautiful, with a sharper chin and darker lashes and a little taller, but barely at his shoulder still. She came closer and he struggled to keep still, longing to embrace her like they did that one time under the apple tree when he told her he was leaving. 

She stared up at him, as if she couldn't believe he was really there. Her father smiled and clapped him on the back. "There's an extra room. It's storage, but I can move a cot in there."

He walked upstairs and Mulder could hear him shifting things up there. He turned his eyes to her and she looked up at him imploringly, though he noticed her eyes were guarded and her stance was almost accusatory, her arms crossed over her chest. He was almost embarassed to witness her in her night gown, but she seemed less than worried about it. 

"Hey Scully," he said softly, feathers floating around in his chest. 

"I wondered if you were still alive," she said slowly. "You never wrote." It wasn't a mean-spirited phrase, but it made him flinch anyway. She was right; he hadn't. He'd made a young promise and he'd broken it as soon as he'd reached California. He just never could find the time or any postage or ran out of money to afford some paper. He'd tried to write on the back of a bounty poster once, but the sheriff had seized it back from him and he'd been run off. 

"You decided to leave," he replied, looking around their home. "Was it a hard journey?"

Her eyes lost the guarded look and took on one of bereavement. He knew that look. "Missy died."

Missy. Melissa Scully, her sister. His heart broke for her and again, he was filled with a longing to reach for her. But her father came back down the stairs and gestured towards the second level. "It's late, you should get some rest, Mulder. You look dead on your feet. Tomorrow we can talk and then Dana can show you around."

Mulder nodded with a yawn and chanced a look at Scully. But she was crossing the floor and heading upstairs, no longer looking at him. Mr. Scully led him after her, showing him to the first door on the right, a small room with a small cot in the corner, various crates on the floor and belongings on shelves. "It's a little cramped, but if you plan to stay, we'll figure out something better."

Mulder thanked him and the door shut behind him. He hung the satchel on a nail at the windowsill and sat down heavily on the bed. He lowered his head and hung his hands between his legs. It felt strange to be among people who knew him, or least, once knew him. He'd not seen them for seven years, but they'd known him for his first sixteen. They were there when his baby sister died, they were there when his father left, and they were there when his mother wasted away and left him alone at a young thirteen summers. They were there to offer him a home and he was the one who decided to leave for the West. 

He felt a deep pit of sadness re-open within him, a hole that he'd been able to seal over for a while. He shouldn't have come here. But he couldn't help that tug in his heart that drew him to these people. 

He lied down on his cot and proceeded to not sleep, his mind roving endlessly and searching all he knew for an answer to a question he had not yet figured out how to ask. 

-

Late Morning, Scully Homestead  
A few miles outside Telluride, Colorado  
April, 1885

-

Mulder swallowed the last of his biscuits and milk, watching as Mrs. Scully flitted around the kitchen, humming softly to herself. There were some things that never changed and that was Mrs. Scully. She was still the same kind-hearted woman, always making sure he was well-fed and comfortable. She had woken him up before she scolded her husband for putting him on a cot. She gave him fresh clothes, a little big on him, old hand-me downs from Bill Jr. 

Dana Scully suddenly swooped by him, grabbing a biscuit and headed for the screen door. Her mother let out a chuff of reprimand. "Dana! Get your father, Fox is ready to talk."

Scully barely gave Mulder a look and he felt as though she was giving him the cold shoulder. He wasn't sure why; they'd been childhood friends sure, but. . .but who was he kidding? He was an ass who left and made no effort to get in touch or even return. Even when he was at his lowest, he was always happier laying by some river under a willow, or climbing a mountain atop a stallion or swimming in a lake at the base of a mountain. He loved them, he did, but the unknown always tempted him back like a seductive temptress. 

He hated himself for it. But his addiction to travel wasn't yet satisfied. Right now, he was content to be among these people. But he knew it wouldn't be long before the land called to him again. He dreaded it and longed for it at the same time. 

Scully disappeared outside and her father returned, leaning on the back of one of the chairs. "Well, Mulder, what's the plan?"

Mulder sat up, handing his plate off to Mrs. Scully, who reached out and patted a few crumbs off his cheek. He chuckled when she pinched him and then wandered off, wiping her hands on her apron. "I was hoping it would be okay if I stayed for a bit, earned my keep? I've been," He gave the man a sheepish grin. "Well, I've been shinning and there's not been much work. I owe my boss back home some."

He felt like he was being deceitful somehow by asking for a job after all these years. But Mr. Scully merely gave him a sincere smile. "Of course. Any big plans?" He asked, gesturing for Mulder to follow him outside. "There's plenty of land here, if you plan on settlin' down, buildin' a home. You got a sweetheart somewhere?"

Mulder looked down at his feet as they walked, feeling embarassed. "No, I-" He paused to think. "I've been doing a lot of traveling. Haven't really had time for settling down or finding someone." He knew he was behind in that aspect. Most men his age already were married and had at least two kids. He wondered what Mr. Scully thought of that. 

"Well, there's plenty of time. You just stay as long as you need, I've got room to hire you," Mr. Scully said. "I'm out of cabins, but I've got an extra bedroom. I'm sure my wife is already in there making the bed for you."

They paused at the edge of the pasture where a horse or two grazed. There was movement inside the barn but he couldn't tell whether it was hands or one of the Scully clan. Mr. Scully leaned his forearms on the post. "It really has been good to see you, boy. We prayed you found your way. I imagine it was quite hard on you, without having family to travel with. It was hard on us, even having family."

Mulder sombered, letting his head dip a bit. "I heard about Melissa. I am very sorry for that."

Mr. Scully's face had quickly shifted into someone Mulder did not know. This man was much older than the man he knew seven years ago. This man's wrinkles spoke of sadness and deep weariness. Of a man who worked hard to secure a life for his family, but with a steep cost. Mulder's throat tightened and he looked away. "She died of dysentary. It was hardest on Dana, but she doesn't like to show it. Her mother says she's always been the strongest. I think she tries to hold to that as tightly as she can."

With his words, Dana Scully emerged from the barn, leading a little grullo colt from the barn, his dusty-pelted mother following slowly behind. The little fella was bouncing around Scully's legs and she would occasionally reach out and pat its hindquarters. He would start in surprise and fall over, before jumping to his feet and racing back between his mother's legs. 

Mulder watched, fully entranced by the beautiful young woman and the horses. He forgot that Mr. Scully was beside him until he felt a hand on his shoulder. "She'll take you to see the lands and Telluride."

Mulder felt his heart rate pick up as Scully turned to look at him, her blue eyes focused and clear. If he'd been floating off the ground watching her, then her stare suddenly froze him to the spot, allowing him to ground himself. He couldn't wait. 

-

Evening, Scully Homestead  
A few miles outside Telluride, Colorado  
April, 1885

-

Mulder sat on the roof of the barn alongside Scully, the sun setting somewhere off behind the mountains. Their lack of movement greatly contrasted from the day's activities; she'd kept him busy. They'd explored the farm grounds first; she'd walked him on the expanse of the cattle pasture, showed him which part of the fence always fell in when the creek flooded. 

"You'll be fixing this every time it rains," she had said. "Luckily the cows don't really care to run away."

"They must be content with boredom," he had replied. 

She showed him the silo and the cornfields, which were empty so early in the year. 

"Father has some of the hands sell the grain and produce in town, but more often he's been letting me do it," she had explained. 

Mulder nodded, rolling a piece of grass between his fingers. "You always very convincing."

She showed him the barn and introduced the horses and the dogs and the mousing cat that her brother Charlie had insisted upon. 

"This is my dog, Buck," she said, fondly stroking the ears of the blue-eyed shepherd dog. "He likes to follow me wherever I go."

Mulder glanced at the cat that perched on the rain barrel beside him. "You would like dogs, they don't argue or talk back. They're not independent."

She merely gave him an amused smile, but her eyes were lighter than they had been. 

She saddled two horses and led him down across the creek and up the ridge where the valley was visible. 

"It's different from Virginia, but it's home now," she said softly, her eyes focused on the mountains. "I'm glad we left."

His eyes were focused on her, the way her hair burned in the setting sun, the brightness of her blue eyes. "It really is beautiful."

They'd returned as the sun was beginning its descent and she'd led him to her favorite spot on the roof of the barn, just outside one of the windows. She had her legs drawn up, her arms wrapped around her knees, scrunching up her sun dress between her calves. He leaned back on his hands, the wooden shingles warm beneath his palms. 

"Your family has a good life here, Scully," he commented. "Despite what has been lost."

She turned her eyes from the mountains, her face faraway, licking her lips thoughtfully. "And you? Did you find what you were looking for?"

He finally looked away from her, feeling a sense of shame creeping through him at her question. He'd made friends with a man on the journey to California, a former soldier called Walter Skinner. Together they'd found work and boarded together. Walter often got exasperated each time Mulder quit a job. He questioned endlessly when Mulder would be gone weeks at a time, exploring the land, the mountains, the forests. He'd think Mulder dead, until he would return, bedraggled and exhausted, but with a new shine in his eyes. He'd tell him of his travels, how he believed he made it to Oregon once, or somewhere people had never been before. He would go back to work everytime he returned with a renewed vigor. And then he would grow weary and the cycle would repeat for the next seven years. 

That is, until he heard of the Scullys in Colorado. They'd been living in Nevada and he'd told Walter that he was leaving again. He didn't know when he was to return. He knew he'd have work when he returned, but he owed Walt money and he knew that the older man was growing tired of Mulder's wanderlust.

"No, I don't think so," he answered finally. "I don't know that I ever will."

Scully arched a brow, her eyes glistening slightly in the dying light. "You'll leave again." It was a statement, a realization without any real surprise. 

He shrugged, unable to bring himself to answer. How could he possibly explain his soul's need in a few words? Instead, he nodded down to where Mrs. Scully was standing on the porch, looking for them. He stood and reached down a hand to her. With a gentle blink of her eyes, she let his hand take hers and she rose to meet him. Together they wandered to dinner, their arms brushing as they walked. 

He hoped that maybe she was wrong. 

-

Late Evening, Scully Homestead  
A few miles outside Telluride, Colorado  
May, 1885

-

And so the days passed. Mulder spent his days in the fields or transporting feed or milking cows. He earned his keep, getting up early to work. He'd sit down with them each night at dinner, a privilege that none of the other workers had. Though, to be fair, the other workers had homes and families. 

During the time that he wasn't working, which was from the time that the sun started its descent till the next morning, he often found himself in the company of Dana Scully. He was captivated by her. At first, he only saw her for a short conversation. Then she would take a walk with him to the creek, sometimes bringing her dog along. Then she would encourage him to come with her on horse rides. Their time together started to take up more and more time and often he was escorting her back to her home well after the stars were out. 

Now, she was leading him by the hand, a blanket over her shoulder and a picnic basket in the other hand, the stars gleaming above them as the full moon bathed the landscape in a silvery light. She was leading him up to the barn roof again, a giddy grin on her face as her laughter intoxicated him. 

They laid on their sides and ate the fruit she brought, a special treat her father had brought back from a trip to Denver. Some of it was just summer-ripe raspberries and blackberries picked in the woods by the creek. Red stained their fingers and teeth, evoking laughter as they smiled. 

They ended up looking up at the stars and Mulder showed her one of the constellations he knew. She pointed at the North Star, at Orion and taught him how to navigate, a trick her once sea-faring father taught her. 

"That way, wherever you are, you can always find your way back home," she murmured, not looking at him. 

He blinked sleepily at her and finally caught her eye. She turned on her side to look at him better and he offered her a smile. He didn't think he'd need the stars; he'd found them again without them. "That's what maps are for, Scully," he joked, earning him a shove to the shoulder. 

"Shut up, Mulder," she laughed, shuffling closer to him. 

They just stared at one another for a few moments, neither having any words to say. But he found they didn't need them. He could read her eyes and knew that she was truly enjoying their time together. Suddenly, he never wanted to leave, wanted to stay on that roof forever, just watching the stars shine in her blue eyes. He edged closer to her, his lips almost grazing hers, his slightly bigger than average nose brushing hers. 

Her smile became smaller, shrouded by a shadow on her face. But she didn't drift away from him. "You'll leave again," she stated, like before. 

"I've never wanted to leave you," he murmured, causing his lips to ever so slightly caress hers. 

That was all it took. She closed the distance and kissed him, gently at first, then firmly. Her hand snaked around to bury her fingers in his hair and his wrapped around her waist pulling her closer to his body. He felt like he was on a mountain cliff, looking down over the valleys and forests and lakes, his breath sweeping out of his chest in exhilaration. He tenderly moved his hands to cup her cheek, his thumbs swooping back and forth across her cheeks. 

She pulled back but only slightly, letting her forehead rest against his. "I don't want you," she whispered. "But I think I need you."

He understood. She was afraid he would hurt her like he did when they were younger. He was afraid of it too. But right now, he had no urge to leave. In fact, he wanted to be beside her forever. He kissed her again softly. "I think I need you too."


	2. It's a Shame About the Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Fox Mulder it's always been easier to run than get attached to others. He only hurts those around him. Leaving Virginia was hard, but leaving her was harder. The second time around just might tear him in two.
> 
> A Western AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get the second chapter up! There's been a lot going on for a lot of us, including me, so it just got put on the back burner! Here is chapter 2 and the rest of the story will be following up not too long from now. Also, since I started this, I went horseback riding on a trail in the Smoky Mountains and inspiration has come from that (a trip to the Smokies is something I highly recommend!)

Early Afternoon, Scully Homestead  
A few miles outside Telluride, Colorado  
August, 1885

"No, you had the cows in rotation out in that part of the field for the past few weeks. If we move them in this area here, it'll give the area there some time to grow back. Plus, the creek runs throught this area here and will keep it pretty green here until fall."

Mr. Scully followed Mulder's finger as he pointed at the land, nodding with approval. "And the crops will have to rotate too. That southern field will be barren come winter."

Mulder nodded and turned to go back to his chores, but Mr. Scully gripped him by the shoulder. "Hang on, Fox. I've got to ask you about something else."

Mulder felt his mouth become dry. "Yes sir?"

Mr. Scully gestured for him to walk with him, leading him down the property and walking along the fencelines of the cow pastures, pausing every so often to check a rickety part of the perimeter. His silence was worrisome to Mulder, though he had an idea of what this was about. 

"You've been here a few months now and you're proven you're more than capable at what you do. And I know you haven't really said anything about it, but I know you're close with my daughter," He paused, leaning on a fence post and looking back at Mulder. "But I also know you've been into town and put in for a new horse. And I know you've been gathering things."

Shame washed through Mulder and he looked away. It was true. He was meant to go pick up his horse tomorrow and his room was packed tight, saddle bags full of canned food and his few belongings tucked into a satchel. He'd tried to be nonchalant, subtle, but it seemed Mr. Scully had been keeping a close eye on him. 

"Son, I understand that you have people you know elsewhere. I know that you aren't one that gets tied to one place," Mr. Scully had pure sympathy in his voice. But an edge of sternness entered his voice. "But my daughter. . .she doesn't tend to attach to people too much. I think since her sister died, she's felt like she should be alone because its easier. But I watch her everyday and since you've been here, she's been happier. Warmer."

Mulder felt that lump growing in his throat, a distinct combination of self-hatred and humiliation. As the end of August was approaching, so was the changing of leaves, the coming of fall. A precedent to winter. And he'd felt the return of the pull in his gut and the day he'd first realized it, he'd made himself scarce by drinking the night away in Telluride. He hated himself for it, he hated it, but he could hardly ignore the urge to leave, to be gone before winter trapped him. The thought of being stuck in one place, regardless of anything else, scared him down to his bones. 

"I need to ask you, Mulder, if you must leave, please find a way to tell her. Don't leave without a goodbye."

He left Mulder standing there. Mulder sat down and held his face in his hands, wishing he'd had the sense to not seek them out at all.

Maybe then he wouldn't be about to break her heart again. He hadn't planned on leaving until closer to September. He could make her happy still, until then, right? Or should he tell her sooner? Let her distance herself so it wouldn't hurt once he left?

He was tempted to get soaked again and shuffle home, hopefully getting run over by a wagon in the process. But he didn't deserve the peace of mind that death would bring. 

He wouldn't act as if anything had changed. Not yet. He was selfish; he wanted to enjoy the rest of his time here. He wanted to love her until the call and the fear became too great and he would have to leave her. Maybe he'd be lucky enough then to be bit by a rattlesnake or fall off a cliff. 

"Mulder!"

You're one sorry son of a bitch, he thought to himself as her voice made his heart skip a beat. 

He didn't need to plaster on a fake smile; his reaction to her was genuine. It was the grief for what he knew was to come, the heartache to follow, that he had to hide deep within himself. He turned, pushing off the ground to stand and see her riding across the field on a buckskin gelding. 

Her smile stole the breath out of his chest and he looked up at her with a wide smile. "I thought you were headed into Telluride today."

Scully grinned, leaning on the horn of her saddle. "My mother has gone into Telluride with my father for the night. Something about a land deal and staying the night for a picture show. We, on the other hand, are going someplace else. Charlie will have the ranch under control till someone's back."

Mulder came closer, scratching the gelding's neck. He peered behind her at the saddle bags and rolls of canvas and cloth packed on the back of the horse. "I'm guessing it ain't too close?"

Mischief was in her smile and it shined like stars in her blue eyes. "Maybe not. No one is gonna miss us though." 

Mulder dropped his face to the ground, kicking the dirt. "I don't know, Scully. . ."

She scoffed at him. "Mulder, you weren't nearly this shy when we were half seas over in the barn that one time in July. Or when we went into town and you nearly got in a fight over Dead Man's Hand."

Mulder made the mistake of looking back up at her; she was giving him the best she had, with wide eyes and that little pleading bottom lip. "Scully, I don't want to upset your father by. . . well, whatever it implies if we go out for a night."

Scully's mischief disappeared, replaced by a reassuring tilt of her head. She leaned down and swept her hand onto his cheek. "My father doesn't need to know a thing. I'm just taking you someplace I know, and I'm making sure we're prepared. Traveling on the rocks at night isn't safe for the horse."

He had one last way to try and convince her otherwise, to try and avoid giving in to the fierce temptation of letting her take him wherever she wanted. "I bought a new horse, you know. A big beautiful mustang. You'd like him, a pretty black stallion. Was wild once too, like me."

That encouraged a laugh from Scully and she slid forward on the saddle, inviting him up. "You'll have time tomorrow still." He sighed and climbed up behind her, the squeeze tight but warm and comfortable. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, brushing his stubble against her skin like he knew she hated. 

She shied away, her laughter inspiring the heartbeat in his chest. "Scratchy beard," she giggled, spurring the horse into a canter down the hill and along the creek. 

"So, where are we headed anyway?" Mulder asked, admitting defeat and resting his hands chastely on Scully's hips as he swayed with the movement of the horse. 

She reached around with one hand and pulled his hand flush around her, his palm splayed across her stomach. He held on as she kept quiet, guiding the horse back up the rocks across a mountain ridge path. "Don't worry, Mulder. My father took me here lots of times after we settled. You'll love it."

Mulder pressed another kiss to her temple and looked ahead to the mountains. His restless heart was fluttering; maybe if he got out for a little bit, it would be enough to convince his soul to stay. To stay with her. He tried not to think on how torn his heart was and instead on the feel of her stomach rising and falling under his hand, the steady trot of the horse beneath them, and the warmth of the woman he loved against him. 

Early Evening, Ridge above Blue Lake  
A Few Miles Outside the Scully Ranch  
August, 1885

It was when they came to the valley and Mulder saw the lake below that his urge to wander was settled, at least for the night. The sun was beginning to set and Scully stilled the horse at the top of the rise. Their breath was visible in the dying glow of the sun, the lake reflecting the sunset. Though the rocks surrounding was bland and probably difficult to maneuver down, the rest of it was beautiful. There was a spruce forest down near the shore of the clear blue lake. He could see wild red mountain flowers blooming on the cliffsides. It was gorgeous, and his sight fell back to Scully's portrait, her head of red hair surrounded by a halo of the golden rays of the setting sun. 

He found himself staring at her as she gave the horse his head and let the gelding lead the way down the trail. She didn't notice, but he couldn't help it. She was his muse, his closest friend and even these past few months couldn't make up for the years he missed. They could've grown up together. They could've been in love for so much longer. Hell, they could've been married now, living on their own land a few miles away from her parents, nestled between the mountains.

He could've been a father by now. 

The thought distracted him from Scully and he stared at nothing, hardly aware of his surroundings. Was that something he really wanted? He'd seen how wrong marriage and parenthood could go; it had been deterrent enough for him to avoid the working girls in the saloons and hotels. He couldn't risk a pregnancy, especially with a woman he didn't know, a woman he didn't love. He thought for a while that he might've found a woman he coud have a future with; when he was eighteen, he met a woman named Diana Fowley. She was a waitress at a saloon and he'd fallen head over boots. But it hadn't lasted; he'd found her sleeping with the barkeep. 

He figured he'd done too much wrong in his life to earn any real love. He hadn't been able to protect his sister like a big brother should. His father wasn't proud of him, so he left. He wasn't enough for his mother to find the strength to take care of herself. He caused pain to everyone aroud him.

He realized now he hadn't stoppped loving her since they were kids. It had been sweet then, like wild strawberries growing in a meadow on a summer afternoon. It was playing in creeks and going to town to steal cigarettes and smoke them behind the apple tree down the road from the house. It was a wonder neither of them picked up the habit. He'd loved her then and he'd kissed her under the apple tree before he left, because he was sixteen and he was scared. He promised to write and kissed her knuckles and the ghost of her lips on his tasted like those sweet strawberries on that meadow hill in the warmth of a Virginian summer. 

He didn't think he'd ever taste it again. 

Now, here he was, with her again, causing deviltry, loving her fiercely, knowing full well he was about to break her heart. 

He wasn't a man anyone could tie to. He was a wanderer, a rambling man, and he only hurt what he touched. But he let himself indulge in the idea, the what if, the fantasy of where he could've been had he not been so keen on discovering the unknown. 

"Mulder? You going to get down?"

He realized with a start that Scully had halted the horse near the edge of the pines, by the shore of the small lake. She'd even gotten down, staring up at him now with a smile reminiscent of their younger years. He returned his own and climbed down, patting the horse and turning it off to graze on its own. 

"Sorry, I was just taken speechless by the sight," he lied. "It really is . . .beautiful."

Scully looked towards the setting sun. "I only wished we had come sooner. Water is going to be cold."

Mulder looked at her with curiosity. "The water?"

She gave him a smirk and to his pure shock, delight, and guilt for not looking away, she began to strip down. Once in her undergarments, she waded her way into the clear water. He watched until only her head was visible, the sun disappearing and stars beginning to glitter above them. "Leave your jaw flapping like that, you'll catch flies." Her tone was a tease and challenge all at once. 

Allowing the moment to take over and pushing the image of Mr. Scully murdering him for this out of his mind, he stripped down to his own undergarments. The water wasn't as cold as he thought, but it definitely stole his breath for a moment. He waded out, finding that the deeper he went, the further Scully was from him. 

"Don't you know cowboys can't swim?" Mulder called out to her, knowing that the water was well above her head now and she had to be treading water. 

"Good thing you're just a cowhand," she replied cheekily. 

He gave up on walking through the water and launched after her. She laughed loudly, swimming away from him to the middle of the lake. He followed, catching her quickly. She pushed at his bare chest half-heartedly, and he wrapped his arms around her in a way that she wouldn't have to keep treading. He could still reach and she rested on his arched thigh. 

"You never know, Scully, I could've spent my time as Texas Ranger. Or maybe I was with Earp at OK against the Cochise County Cowboys," He replied, blinking slowly and fondly at her. "Don't you know I once lassoed a snowstorm, Scully? I tied it to the top of the mountains." He jerked his chin towards the mountains in the distance, back towards Telluride. 

She tossed her head back with a chirp of laughter, showing her eyes off to the moon, challenging its beauty. "You're crazy," she purred. "Mulder, you haven't changed even a little since we were kids."

He tilted his head at her. "How so?" He felt like he'd become even more of an ass since they were kids. At least as a kid, he'd had the nerve to tell her he was leaving. 

She stared up at the stars, her lips slightly parted with thought. Her short hair floated on her shoulders, the water tugging gently at her red strands. She shivered in his arms and he pulled her closer to him. "You used to tell me stories about lands beyond the stars. Don't you remember? You'd make up worlds and creatures and show me what they looked like in each group of stars. You talked about distant lands and adventure. You said one day you'd figure it all out. All I ever wanted was to be there when you did."

At first her words brought back a memory he didn't know he had. But her last sentence struck a terrible chord in him and he looked away guiltily. He felt her hand caress his cheek, but he spoke first. "If it's any consolation, I haven't figure it out yet."

She leaned up, her chest brushing his, and kissed his forehead for a long moment. When she pulled back, her smile hadn't faded, but her eyes were watery. "Come on. Let's go set up the tent before we freeze."

He accepted the out, though he felt that she had more to say. He'd let her decide whether or not to continue the conversation once they were dried and set up. Once out of the water, they approached the horse to dry off, unsaddling the gelding to use the blanket underneath to dry up. Mulder worked on gathering sticks and branches from the dark woods while Scully strung the canvas tent up. 

When he returned, the tent was up, canvas rolls inside, as well as the saddle and bags. He set up a small fire with stones around it to protect from it lighting anything else and put enough on it for it to burn through the night and provide them with hot coals to cook with in the morning. Scully had brought some canned hash for breakfast and they ate some fruit now. Mulder tossed his apple core into the woods and Scully had already disappeared into the tent. 

He ducked inside and found her curled under the little nest of bedrolls. He felt shy joining her, not only because he'd never shared a bed with her before, but also because he felt a strong desire to do so. He wanted to hold her in his arms, wanted to kiss her and make sure she knew he loved her. 

Probably because you're about to ditch her, you sick bastard, a small cruel voice whispered in his mind. He knew he was going crazy when he replied to himself, But I love her, is that so wrong?

Ignoring himself, he hunkered down and pulled himself under the covers. Scully came close, but she didn't quite curl into him like he might've hoped. His heart quickened when he looked into her eyes and saw a combination of love and trust in her eyes. But he felt a lump grow in his throat when he recognized grief there too. 

He saw it in her eyes. She knew. He didn't know why he thought he could hide it from her. 

"Mulder," she whispered gently. "You have a wandering soul and you were born to leave. I told you earlier, you haven't ever changed. I don't think you ever will."

Mulder felt tears fill his eyes and he tried to look away, tried to pull back and accept her words. She was right, she always was right. She was right when they argued over what seeds to plant in June, she was right when they argued over whether or not a storm was coming when they walked up to the ridge in July, and she was right about this. 

But her hand stilled his face, kept him from withdrawing from her. He tried to look down, but her fingers drawing circles on his cheeks brought his focus to her. "Let me finish, Mulder," she told him firmly. "I know you're going to leave. I saw you gathering your things. When I realized you were buying a horse, I knew."

Guilt swelled stronger and stronger in his chest and he pictured his sister, how she coughed and sweat in her bed and he was too afraid to bring water to her. He would run away instead of help his mother care for her, afraid of being trapped in the room with his sick sister. Afraid that she would die when he was in the room. 

Scully's hands on his face brought him back to the present, but the guilt didn't go away. He was a runner; he ran from what scared him and hid it behind the guise of searching answers to questions he didn't even know how to ask. She was a lover, his opposite, forever to be caught in his cycle of leaving. 

"Scully, I'm sorry. I-I-," Mulder tried, stumbling over his words. "I can't help it. I can't. I love you, Scully, I love you so damn much, it's tearing me apart inside."

She was crying now, but the love hadn't left her eyes and Mulder couldn't understand why she hadn't gotten up, climbed on the gelding and returned home. "When do you leave?" She asked instead, her voice breathy. 

Mulder took a breath and closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them. "Beginning of September. So I can beat the cold back to Nevada . . .or wherever it is I'm headed." 

Scully gave a tiny nod and finally nestled her face close to his, her nose brushing his. "I'm not mad." Her voice was almost too quiet to hear. "I loved you then and I love you now. That isn't going to change either."

He'd imagined the first time they said I love you, it would be under happier pretenses. Maybe he would've revisited their past and brought her strawberries. Maybe they would've gone out and rode together. She always loved that. Though the swim had been refreshing, the trip amazing, the underlying fact remained. 

Mulder was leaving. And despite his flaw, his terrible urge to run, his uncontrollable search for the unknown probably triggered by his fear of growing attached - despite it all, Scully loved him anyway. 

"Why?" 

She didn't answer him, but instead leaned forward and kissed him. Softly at first, reassuringly, gently. She seemed to grow warmer somehow in his arms and he pulled her closer, as if he could make her a part of him. She was already under his skin, a part of his heartbeat, and it had taken him till now to realize she always had been. The kisses grew to be more, somehow as passionate as a fevered kiss and as sensual as a languid embrace. 

An owl hooted somewhere nearby, interrupting heavy breaths and soft sighs. 

The tent held in the warmth between the two, a slight breeze barely touching their bare skin.

The night wore on, the stars guarding the lovers till the sky brought the morning. 

Mulder awoke to Scully tracing circles on his chest, her face hidden against the column of his neck. She was warm and tiny and everything. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, her breath tickling his skin. She was awake, but silent. He felt a flash of doubt, a prickle of terror burrowing its way into his heart. He couldn't tell if she was regretful or resentful or angry or in pain. 

"I wish we didn't have to go back." She assuaged his fears with a few words, as if she could read his mind. 

He pressed a lingering kiss to her temple. "Me too."

Neither of them moved. Mulder simply tangled his legs further with hers and closed his eyes, listening to the bittersweet song of a mourning dove. He wasn't ready when Scully kissed his jaw and said, "Do you think you'll ever come back?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha this story feels so shaky and ooc maybe but I love it. also it always feels so much longer in my notepads but putting it here makes it feel so shorttt


	3. But I Know Soon We'll Be Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Fox Mulder it's always been easier to run than get attached to others. He only hurts those around him. Leaving Virginia was hard, but leaving her was harder. The second time around just might tear him in two.
> 
> A Western AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! The follow up chapter will simply be an epilogue and possibly an introduction to a second, longer Western AU story! Thank you to those who enjoyed this little indulgence story of mine, I really appreciate it! Let me know if you have any other AU ideas that you might like to see me write, I would love more to consider!

Evening, Virginia City  
Iron Bluff, a few miles from Comstock Lode  
Early October, 1885

Mulder leaned heavily on a fence post, watching the fuzzy white animals roam past him. As soon as he felt a presence at his side, he let out a scoff. "A scab herder? Really?" When silence followed, he turned to see Walter staring at him, nearly emotionless besides the stern furrow of his brow.

"Come on, Walt, I haven't seen or heard from you for half a year and you can't even offer a hello?"

Skinner's expression broke then, his sternness replaced by anger and acute frustration that showed in the popping vein on his forehead. "Shut the hell up, Mulder," he growled. "I can't keep doing this with you. I don't know if you're dead or killed somewhere. Here I was actually hoping you might've finally found what you've been looking for." Skinner kicked the dirt before coming close, leaning over Mulder with a mean look in his eye. "But here you are again, expecting me to take you back in without so much as a bat of my eye."

Mulder took it in stride, though he couldn't help but admit to himself the hurt in his chest. "So that's it then? Finally tossing me after all these damn years?"

Skinner let out a heavy sigh, casting his eyes towards the pastures. Gray clouds sat on the hills, threatening probably the first snow for Virginia City. "I just don't get it, Mulder. I don't."

Mulder felt a rush of irritation. "Yeah, well, neither do I. Sorry I can't give you a better answer," he said bitterly, well aware that his annoyance didn't lie with Skinner, but against himself.

Skinner stared harder at him, his eyes narrowing. "What happened to you, Mulder? Where've you been this time?"

Mulder let out a shaky sigh. "Save my room for me?" He gave him the best crooked smile he could offer. Skinner reached out and pulled him into a crushing hug. Mulder laughed into his shoulder. "I knew you'd never be able to turn me away. Besides, I already unsaddled my horse in your barn."

Skinner gave him one last squeeze before pulling away and finally a small smile crossed his tough face. "You're a bastard." He began to walk away from him towards the house.

Mulder followed, reaching out to clap a hand on Skinner's bald head. "Yeah, yeah. Don't I know it."

Skinner cuffed him, but Mulder knew he was okay now. Skinner could be mad, but he wouldn't ever turn him away. Like it or not, they'd been brothers for seven years now. Aside from the fact that Mulder still owed him money.

It wasn't more than a few moments that they entered that they were sitting down and eating leftover soup. It was quiet; Mulder could tell as he spooned potatoes and broth into his mouth, that Skinner was waiting for the moment to pounce. He wouldn't give him the chance.

"I don't want to talk about it," he murmured, staring into his soup. "I was gone for awhile and now I'm back. That's all that matters, right?"

Skinner put down his spoon and wiped his mouth on his napkin. His gaze was pensive and curious. "Mulder-"

He set his own saucer aside, probably more aggressively than needed, and avoided meeting his friend's eyes. "I can't. I just-" He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes before opening them to meet his gaze. "Not right now. I just want to shave, get some rest and get back to work."

Skinner released a sigh of his own, leaning back in his chair. "You look like a gone man. Do what you like, Mulder, but you're a man who's lost his shadow. I know you. You ain't a ten-cent man."

Mulder stood up and shrugged. "I just was exploring. You know how it is. Took the tracks to that new Durango in Colorado. Went to Black Canyon, camped out. A perfect chuck-line rider. You know me."

Skinner shook his head. "That dog won't hunt, Mulder. You went to Durango in '82. Remember? You told me you got kicked out of the mines for getting into a fight."

Left speechless by his mistake, Mulder merely shook his head in reply. "Goodnight, Walter. Bright and early." Leaving his dishes to his friend, he turned towards the familiar route to his room. He paused at the edge of the table and reached into his jacket. "I think this will cover what I owe you." He set the roll of greenbacks down. Without another word, he headed off to bed.

It was strange being in his own room again. Skinner left it untouched for the past six months. Somehow, though, it felt much different than all the other times he returned to the bluff. It was wrong and he felt out of place. It felt like it belonged to a man who no longer existed. Mulder wasn't the same as he was half a year ago. Mulder didn't even know who he was now.

He sat down on the bed and ran his fingers down his face, scratching through the beard now thick on his skin. There'd been no point in shaving it on the road. The trip back had been longer than he expected it to be. He'd gotten distracted too many times, lingered for days at a time, fighting with himself on whether or not to continue or turn back.

He'd shave in the morning. He was too weary and put out to do so tonight.

Removing his clothes and climbing into the creaky bed, he sighed as his muscles protested the lack of the hard ground. For some reason, he'd always preferred a harder surface to the soft bed Skinner had given him. Probably because of all the time he spent sleeping on the ground.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture the work tomorrow. He'd have to learn how to herd sheep, for starters. Learn the names of any new hands, only to forget them an hour later. Go into town and buy some new clothes. His old winter clothing was becoming threadbare.

But as his mind wandered away from order and planning, he found that sleep was evasive. He forgot how hard sleep was to come by; sleeping in Colorado had been so simple and attainable. Here, he knew he would get none tonight.

Instead he got to his feet and crossed the room to sit at his desk. He pulled out some paper and a pencil, twisting on the oil lamp. He sat there, staring at the paper, his heart in his throat, before he began to write.

Night, Virginia City  
Saloon, Virginia City  
Early October, 1885

Mulder finished off his whiskey before he set down another couple cents and the bartender refilled his glass. He glanced around the bar, sweat on his forehead despite the cold outside.

The past few days he'd been keeping himself busy. He'd started herding the sheep, preparing for winter by picking up deliveries in the city, riding his mustang out on the familiar trails across the ridges and through sparse pine groves. Sleep still was rough and most nights he spent time writing.

Today had been hard though. He'd been riding alone, small flakes of snow flurrying around him when a fox crossed his path. He stopped dead, his memory flying back to early May.

_She stopped him from moving by grasping his forearm gently. He felt as though his skin was tingling where hers touched his. The undergrowth wasn't very thick here up on the ridge, so her gaze was easy to follow. It also helped that the little fox ahead of them was bright against the foliage. It was trotting ahead of them and made it clear that it knew they weren't far off. It would stop and glance back at them every so often, staring with quizzical eyes and a tilt of its head._

_"Why did your mother name you Fox?" She asked in a soft whisper, her eyes not leaving the little red animal._

_Mulder sat down on his hind end, looking up to Scully's face as she kneeled. "Actually, I believe my father was the culprit for that unfortunate decision."_

_Scully cast him a sidelong look. "So why did he do it? Why not William the Second or. . .Billy?"_

_Mulder chuckled. "Well you see, my father had an ego issue, he didn't really want a second William. And you know, there's already one outlaw named Billy. The West couldn't handle two of us."_

_She fully turned to look at him now, the grin on her face as toothy and playful as it was when she were kids. "Outlaw?" She said teasingly. "Mulder, you couldn't hurt a fly. You wanna know what I think?"_

_The fox was still looking at them. Mulder gave her a small nod. Scully sat down beside him, shuffling close until their legs touched. She looked him in the eye, rooting him to the spot. As the weeks went by, he found that their old ease from childhood hadn't evaporated in his seven year absence. They could still exchange whole conversations through a single look. They still could banter with intelligent words and arguments._

_Mulder had accidentally developed a new habit of touching her shoulder or her arm, but mostly, he guided her when they walked with his hand on the small of her back. She hadn't stopped him, so he often wondered if she felt what he did._

_"You know, foxes usually are seen as sneaky or as thieves," She said, not dropping her eyes even once._

_Mulder let out a barking scoff. "You think I'm a thief, Scully?"_

_She swatted his chest and her hand curled on his arm. He struggled not to look down, instead focusing on how close she'd become when she scolded him. "Shut up, Mulder. I said usually. But foxes are also intelligent and can be associated with bright fire or light. And you, Mulder? You've always been so intelligent and you burn brighter than anyone I have ever known."_

_Mulder was distracted from her eyes by the movement of the fox. It was sitting now, watching them with a curious amber gaze. He looked back at Scully. "Then why isn't your name Fox?" He replied warmly._

_She looked away with a small smile, except he detected a hint of sadness in this one. "I don't think the West is big enough for even just one Fox."_

Her implication then stung just as badly now. He was sure she didn't mean to hurt him, but it had only reminded him that he had hurt her once. And he'd been right about hurting her a second time.

Before he could think back to the day he left, he threw back his fourth? fifth? glass of whiskey and closed his eyes. It didn't matter. Sober or drunk, he could only see her. Skinner was going to whip him for getting soaked again. But it was the easiest way to escape his insomnia and fall asleep.

It was nearly an hour later before he got up to stumble to his horse. Outside, the air was frigid. As he pulled his jacket tighter around himself, he heard a crinkle. With blurred vision, he reached into the inner pocket and found an envelope. Confused, he opened it and unfolded the letter inside, leaning heavily on the hitch post. His mustang snorted and Mulder had to try twice to get his depth right to pat his snow-clumped mane.

Then, angling towards the lantern hanging there, he could barely recognize his own handwriting.

"My Dearest Dana Scully,

I have made it back to Nevada. Skinner was mad I was gone so long, but he let up after a night. I think I told you how he was a produce farmer, but now he's got a mess of sheep here. I've learnt how to herd them now, it's pretty easy.

I have only been here a few weeks. Probably longer by the time you get my letter. It's felt like a lifetime. I hope the winter preparations went well.

I don't really know what to say in this letter. I couldn't sleep when I got back, so I sat down and started writing. I know we both said that was it. I know this was a choice I made and I know that it hurt you. But I don't think I can live without writing this to you. I'm hardly living now.

I wish I could explain why I had to leave. I don't think it's something I could ever fully understand for myself either. It's a strange sort of wanderlust, insatiable and wild. I have this terrible habit now of detaching myself from people so I don't hurt no one. I never wanted to hurt you, but the pull was the same when I heard you were in Colorado. I had to see you. I wish I could say I was sorry and wish that I had never come back at all, but I was never a selfless man.

I don't regret the time I spent there with you. I only wish I had more time before this awful feeling sank in again, calling me away. I would've gone and explored the world more, seen more mountains, more rivers and lakes and animals. I'm stuck in the colder weather now. I guess I'll just be here until it's safe to travel again.

I feel so lost, Scully. I wish I was different.

I hope it's okay if I end this with I love you, despite it all.

Mulder"

Mulder, very drunk, recalled that after he'd wrote the letter that night, he'd decided not to send it. But Mulder, very drunk, decided to do it anyway. He headed for home, but not before he stopped at the station and posted the letter.

Afternoon, Virginia City  
Iron Bluff, a few miles from Comstock Lode  
Early November, 1885

Mulder was cleaning out the horse stalls when Skinner entered the barn, leaning on the edge of the wall. "You know this ain't your job," he scolded, eyebrows furrowing above his glasses.

Mulder waved his hand. "I ran out of chores to do. Besides, this is my horse's stable. I should earn his keep too."

Skinner was quiet for a moment. The winter wind howled outside, clattering the shutters. Then, he heard a crinkle in the man's hands. Mulder set the pitchfork aside as Skinner held up an envelope. He looked at him questioningly, but didn't move. "I was in the city today and the post man said that the man who worked for me had mail. That I could take it to you if I wanted. I thought I'd save you a trip out in the cold."

Mulder shrugged, looking out the window into the white storm. "You didn't have to do that."

Skinner didn't offer the letter to him, but merely looked at it. He read it aloud, "Scully Ranch. Telluride, Colorado."

Mulder stared at the ground like a scolded dog with its tail between its legs. He knew what was coming.

"I'm guessing this is the same Scullys you told me about on our way West. The same family that took you in when you were alone. They moved to Colorado, then?"

Mulder's continued silence was answer enough and Skinner crossed his arms as he leaned on the stall. "Mulder," he started off sternly. "Clearly there's more going on with you than you've said to me. The other day you nearly let a dozen sheep run off and you just sat in the saddle and watched! I can't have you working here if you're just going to be distracted all the day long."

Mulder raised his head when Skinner's voice softened. "Look, you're like a brother to me. I know that the man who left half a year ago ain't the same man who came back. Please, just be honest with me."

Mulder felt a strong desire to run out into the blizzard, disappear into the mountains and never be heard from again. But he knew he'd reached a point where he wanted to be done running. He wanted to tell Walter. Maybe it would help the chaos inside him to tell someone else. "I thought I could go see them. I thought I could see them and maybe make up for leaving them seven years ago. And. . .I was only sixteen when I left. But Scully, she was the one I wanted to be with. I wish I was anyone but me, because maybe then they would've been enough. Maybe she would've been enough," He looked at Skinner with a peaceful sort of agony. "Why can't I be different? Why can't anything ever be enough?"

Skinner was quiet for a long moment and Mulder was almost certain he didn't have an answer for him. He shocked Mulder by taking a deep breath and speaking in the most genuine voice he'd ever heard. "Mulder, I've known you a long time now and I've never been convinced, much as you believe it, that you're a bad man. In fact, you're one of the best I know. This. . .urge to keep going, to keep seeking and finding, it's as much a part of you as they are or I am. And I ain't ever seen anything that came your way that swayed you from your quest. But Scully. . .I can see how it's ripping you up inside. If she's this important to you, enough to challenge this part of you, is there no way to bring the two together?"

Mulder felt a twinge in his chest. "I couldn't ask that of her. I couldn't ask her to leave her family. I couldn't provide much, not when I'm always on the road. I'm not worth that much uncertainty in life. At the ranch, she has a future. She has a chance to make something of herself. I don't know what she'd have if she came with me. Besides, I've hurt her too many times. Why would she want that?"

Skinner let out a bark of laughter and Mulder felt a sharp bitter prick in his heart at his nonchalant attitude. "Mulder, did you ever ask her?"

"Well no, but-"

"I don't know this Scully of yours, but from what you told me over the years, she seems pretty capable of making her own decisions. You can't put words in her mouth and make them the truth. That just ain't fair."

Deep down, he knew that Skinner was probably right. But he knew his lack of self-worth was forcing that away. "It wasn't fair of me to leave and I've done it twice now. None of this is fair. But she's better off without me." Mulder turned back to the barrow and picked it up, ready to transport it to the dump area, demonstrating he was finished with the conversation.

As he started to walk away, Skinner's words from behind him rang in his ears the rest of the day.

"I guess you won't ever know the truth."

Evening, Virginia City  
Iron Bluff, a few miles from Comstock Lode  
Mid November, 1885

Mulder hadn't opened the envelope that Skinner had brought him. It sat on his desk for a month, sitting there like the last nail waiting to be pounded in the coffin of his avoidance.

It was a particularly hard night for sleeping when the blizzard cleared for a bit in the early morning and Mulder stood on the porch and stared at the untouched blanket of white. It sparkled and shined in the rising sun and though he shivered, his chest was warm as an image entered his mind. It was so clear, it was almost like a memory that he'd never had.

He was standing before untouched snow, but there was warmth against his side. He would turn and press a kiss to her temple, her hair dusted in little intricate snowflakes, like ice against fire. The snow wasn't like this in Virginia; he could remember his reaction to the snow and the storms and the cold. It was full of awe and love for the world's works. He wanted to see the snow with her, to play in it and warm up near a hearth in each other's arms.

But he was here in Nevada and she was in Colorado and he was shivering alone.

So, he went back inside, climbed the stairs to his room, sat down at his desk and stared at the letter sitting there. And after a deep breath, he opened it, his eyes taking in every word.

"My Mulder,

You don't know how glad I am to hear that you made it where you were going. I know that some time has passed from the time I got your letter to the time this will reach you. Winter has gone well here so far and we are keeping warm, as I pray you are.

I miss you. I know I told you I'd be okay. And mostly, I am. But there's just always this knowing that I'm missing a part of me. I long for the safety and comfort that we shared for so brief a time. You need to stop blaming yourself too. I know that you do, even without you writing out the words yourself. I wouldn't change anything about our lives. To do so, I'd have to change you and if I did that, you would cease to be the man I fell in love with.

I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for. I hope there's peace in you when you figure it out. And even if it takes forever or its only a brief moment in time, I hope that maybe our paths will cross again.

I love you, Mulder, and I am yours.

Scully"

Mulder leaned back hard against the wooden back of his chair. His mouth was dry and his skin felt hot as he realized what a fool he'd been. He never should have left. Or at least, he should have asked her. He shouldn't have tried to decide for her. Mulder leaned back hard against the wooden back of his chair. His mouth was dry and his skin felt hot as he realized what a fool he'd been. Why had he waited a whole month to read this? Why had he been so scared? He glanced out his window into the frozen storm.

Why was he here?

He never should have left. Or at least, he should have asked her. He shouldn't have tried to decide for her.

The wind howled outside, as if to try and call to him. He felt a tug in his gut, but it wasn't the storm or the mountains or the same feeling that had plagued him all his life. This was stronger than anything he'd ever known in his life or maybe he was just finally figuring it out.

All he knew was that he wasn't going to waste anymore time.

Night, Just Outside Lincoln  
Saloon and Hotel, Garrison  
Late November, 1885

Mulder sat huddled in a corner, trying to warm up by sipping the coffee, which was offered to him free by the bartender. He'd seemed to take pity on Mulder's sorry state and quietly handed him the warm drink. It was strong and just what Mulder needed to wake up a bit.

It had been weeks since he had left Skinner and his ranch in Virginia City. He'd unfortunately had to leave his horse behind, afraid that the weather would be too much. Besides the weather, having to travel by foot, by finding hospitable travelers, was making it extremely difficult for him to travel. Reaching Utah should've only taken a week or so. It had been three and now it was nearly December.

He carried little besides a leather bag on his shoulder and a gun on his back. He ate what he could shoot, camped where he could, and hitched as many rides as he could.

But he was freezing and the seemingly endless travelling was slowing him down. He hardly slept, desperate to get where he was going. The last time he'd seen himself, a reflection in a frozen puddle, he was scruffy, purple under the eyes, and his lips seemed like a permanent shade of blue.

He hadn't planned on stopping. But his feet had become numb after slipping in a creek outside town and there was no one on the road to take him along. So, he stopped in Garrison and entered the quiet saloon.

He stared into his coffee, the steaming liquid nearly black as the cold night outside. His hands shook as he set down the cup and gave the bartender some money for a room. As he was gathering himself to climb the stairs, a young woman approached him. For a fleeting moment, he thought he was going to have to politely reject her. But she was carrying two hot meals and he realized she was waiting on the people in there.

"Take this. It looks like you could use a decent meal," she offered, handing him the plate. "And if I can be frank, you look like a gone sucker."

Her eyes were bright blue, full of curiosity and concern. He instantly thought of Colorado and all that he was desperately trying to reach. He ducked his head, holding the plate and his feet guiding him onward. He replied quietly, "A gone man indeed."

The room was just about as tattered as he was, but he was relieved to lay down his bag and gun and sprawl out on the bed.

When he'd come flying down the stairs after he read Scully's letter, his bag slung across him and his warm clothes layered on his body, Skinner nearly had to draw his gun on him to get him to slow down and explain what was happening. Mulder had indulged to his friend that he needed to leave, he'd been so stupid, and he didn't know when he'd be back. To Skinner's credit, he had tried to stop him.

"The weather is terrible, Mulder. You'll die," he insisted.

Mulder could only smile in that moment, his heart set. "I won't. I promised her I'd see her again."

Skinner had been silent a long time, before he took off his glasses and set them on the table. "I'll miss you, you know," he said quietly, his eyes sincere.

Mulder had pulled the big man into a hug. "Have a little faith," he told him, pulling away to pat his bald head. Skinner frowned at him and cuffed his shoulder. "I'm done trying to leave people."

Skinner had insisted on giving him more money before he'd allowed him to run off into the winter. Mulder had mostly spent it on wagon rides and minor stops for food when hunting was poor. Mulder knew he would see his friend, mentor and brother again. But he had something he needed to do first.

Sleep was again hard to come by, mostly because the day that he'd left all those months ago was replaying a lot in his mind.

But he managed to get in a few hours. At least his dreams weren't so terrible, if he got to see her there. He didn't see the waitress again in the morning, but it didn't matter. He was single-minded and determined to reach his destination. With his belongings slung over his back, he trudged outside into the thick snow, his head low and walk determined.

But before he could get too far out of town, a man in a wagon led by a sturdy horse, called out, "Need a ride, sir?"

Mulder nodded and handed him a few dollars. "Any chance you're headed towards Colorado?"

Night, Scully Homestead  
A few miles outside Telluride, Colorado  
December, 1885

Mulder's steps were heavy and wayward. Every step he took, he felt like his body grew ten pounds heavier. His body had stopped shivering long ago, though maybe he was just so numb he couldn't feel it anymore. His fingers were tucked deep inside his armpits, trying to save them from frostbite as they had started turning colors that frightened him. His hair was long, frosted and snowy, his thick beard matching.

He thought he'd lost his way. He couldn't see markers anymore. He hadn't rode with anyone since the man and his wagon had dropped him off just about a day inside Colorado. So, he'd let his gut and his heart lead the way. The snow was thick and covered everything. He couldn't even be sure he was headed towards Telluride anymore.

He just needed a break. Just a quick break and he would keep moving.

He sat down next to some sort of trunk or fence post, burrowing against it as close as he could as the wind howled around him. He felt in his jacket where his letter was safely kept. Warmth spread inside his chest. Closing his eyes, he thought of her.

_He finished packing his things onto his horse's saddle, just as the sun was starting to make it's way over the mountains. He stared out into the unknown, where he knew that his destination lay. Mr. Scully came out and handed him a bag of rations that he knew Mrs. Scully had gathered up for him. He leaned on the side of the barn, watching Mulder add the rations to his saddle bags._

_"I'm gonna miss my best ranch-hand," Mr. Mulder said wistfully. "Mrs. Scully will miss having someone to impress with her cooking."_

_Both men chuckled and Mulder turned to face him, his heart full of regret and guilt. Mr. Scully must've sensed it, for he threw an arm around Mulder. "I think you'll find that even if you never find what you're looking for, you'll find something much greater."_

_Mulder rolled those words over in his mind, but hadn't much time to discern what they might mean for him. Mr. Scully gave him a pat, squeezing his shoulder and wandering back towards the house where Mrs. Scully leaned against the porch._

_But Mulder's eyes were caught by the beautiful young woman making her way across to him. Her head was low, unwilling to meet his eyes. He stood still, watching her until she stopped right before him. Her nearly reached out to tip her head towards him, but she did so of her own accord. Her eyes were focused and unreadable, but it didn't take any meaning away from the watery blueness there._

_"I snuck some apples in that bag, but they're not for you," she said, reaching out to gently scratch at his stallion's ears. He leaned his head down with appreciation, his ears flicking forward receptively._

_Mulder smiled lightly. "I always knew you only liked me for my horse."_

_She returned his smile, but he could see the sadness behind it. She turned away from the horse and took his head. He marvelled at the softness of her skin as she held his own rough skin in it. "Mulder," she started very quietly. "I hope whatever truths you seek find you well."_

_Mulder raised his other hand to sweep back some of her hair that had fallen in front of her eyes and his heart broke in two as a tear gently made its way down her cheek. He shifted his hands from her hair and her hand to cup her cheeks. Using his thumb, he swept away her tear and brought her close to him. He kissed her forehead, but paused before her lips. This was a goodbye. He couldn't continue to steal love from her as if he wasn't the one breaking her heart._

_But she pushed forward against his hands and kissed him, softly, slowly, lovingly. Her own hands landed on either side of his head. As they parted, they leaned their foreheads on one another, neither wanting to be the first to part._

_"I promise this isn't the end," he whispered._

His head was throbbing painfully when he blinked open his eyes and at first, he thought himself to be blind with how dark it was. But he realized that the darkness was warm and soft; he brought his hand to his eyes and felt a cloth there, soaked with warm water.

He removed it, looking up at a familiar wooden ceiling. There was a soft presence at his side, a gentle hand touching his arm. He blinked a few times, finding with surprise the motherly face of Maggie Scully.

"Mrs. Scully," he croaked, wincing at the soreness in his throat. His limbs all felt like they were made of molasses and he was so extremely tired, unable to force himself to a sitting position. So he rolled his cheek towards the woman there, able to take in the room. He recognized his room from all those months ago and it was untouched in the way he had left it. He felt his eyes tear up at that simplest thing, that they hadn't turned it back into a storage room. They had simply had faith he would return.

"You gave us all quite a scare," Mrs. Scully murmured, pulling his blankets further up his chest. "William found you nearly frozen out by the pasture."

Mulder blinked in surprise. Of all the places he thought he might've stopped to rest, against a fence post at the Scully ranch was almost cruel in a way. Swallowing hard with a wince, he rasped quietly, "I'm sorry."

With a sudden lean in, Maggie embraced him close to her, helping him to a sitting position against the wall. She was much warmer than him and he felt tears spring to his eyes at the love that he could feel coming from her. "Oh honey," she cooed. "You have nothing to be sorry for. We're just so happy you're here now and you're alive."

She leaned back again, brushing back his long hair from his eyes and patting his cheeks. He couldn't help but smile. Then a bolt of alarm went through him. Did she know he was here? Was she alright? Why wasn't she here? Was she. . .? No, he'd accept that she no longer loved him sooner than he would accept if she had died. "Where-"

Maggie brought forth some water from the stand and helped him sip, interrupting his concern. "Dana didn't want to leave your side once we found you. But she hates feeling helpless too. She convinced her father to take her into town to buy some things she thought might help."

His relief must've been evident on his face, because Maggie smiled broadly with bleary eyes. "Do you think you can make it downstairs? I can put you by the fireplace."

Though his bones still felt like jam, he nodded. Her words about Scully had filled him with hope, with an intense longing that would provide the energy he needed.

Once on shaky feet and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, together they made their way carefully down the stairs. The fire was calm in the fireplace, crackling softly. Mrs. Scully flitted about the room, housekeeping, talking quietly to him about everything that had changed since he'd gone. She spoke about how the cows broke the fence on the other side of the pasture and it took ten men to go out and round them up to bring them home. She talked about how they sold some puppies and Mr. Scully had agreed to let them keep one next time there was a litter and now, Mulder could claim one if he wanted. She mentioned how they sold the yearling, which apparently left them sitting well for the winter.

Mulder's eyes grew droopy once more as her comforting voice began to fade. She came close and pulled the blanket closer to his chin and as he was drifting back to sleep, he realized that none of her stories had included Scully.

~

His sleep was full of the cold, white and unforgiving. There was a storm surrounding him, his feet and hands frozen, stumbling as he tried to make his way through. It felt like he was walking though molasses, with nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. Someone was calling to him though, sending warmth through his body and the storm instantly faded to darkness.

"Mulder."

He felt the urge to open his eyes and when he did, he nearly sobbed in relief.

Scully was sitting next to him on the couch, one hand brushing back his greasy hair back from his eyes. The sweat all over his body indicated that his fever had broken and he felt a bit better, though his skin still felt tingly and without full feeling. But her eyes, where he might've expected anger at him for leaving or coldness like he'd known in his dreams, were full of love.

"Hey," he croaked, wincing at the return of his raspy voice. He took in her face, her flushed cheeks, her watery eyes, and trembling bottom lip. "Anybody miss me?"

Her laugh came out in a half sob and she leaned forward, laying her cheek on his chest, in a sort of awkward but soft embrace. He could've closed his eyes right there, but his desire to stay awake with her won over. She tilted her head toward him and he raised a heavy hand to brush a tear from her cheek. "You came back."

He smiled for the first time in a long time, his cheeks hurting from the expression. "I'm just sorry it took so long."

She sat up, encouraging him to do so slowly. His muscles ached horribly and there was a bit of numbness still in his extremities. His skin was sticky and he felt unkempt in his thickly growing beard and shaggy hair. But it was as Scully got up from his side, as she turned to get some water from the stand, that he noticed.

It was subtle, easily mistakable for a trick of light or the shifting of her blue nightgown. But he knew that he wasn't imagining it. He sat up a bit more firmly, staring at her with wide eyes. He didn't want to worry her, but he couldn't help the soft, "Scully" that escaped his lips.

She turned to him with the water glass in hand and her eyes wouldn't meet his. She sat down beside him and handed him the water, but he set it aside, his focus solely on her. There were more tears on her cheeks now, but her demeanor had shifted. He immediately pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her.

"How long have you known?" He whispered to her.

Her voice was small. "Two and a half months."

Mulder pulled back to look at her face, which she tried to hide from him anyway. "You knew when you wrote? Why didn't you tell me?"

She finally looked at him, but her gaze was stern, stony in a way. "I wanted you to come back because you wanted to, not out of some sort of pity. I could've taken care of myself."

Mulder felt his heart break in two. "I don't doubt it, but Scully, nothing I do for you would ever be out of pity. I'm here now because I want to be. I'm here now because I love you and not even all the world could keep me from that."

Scully blinked. "So you're okay with this?" He noticed that with her words, a hand slowly made its way down to her stomach, resting on the slight bump beneath her nightgown. On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her softly. It had been too long since he'd kissed her, but he cut it short when she suddenly laughed. "Scratchy."

He chuckled and teased her by rubbing his chin on her skin. She squirmed against him, her bubbly laughter like music to his ears. They both solemned at the same time and he looked at her imploringly. She nodded and guided his hand towards her stomach. "She hasn't moved yet, but Mom says it won't be long."

He snapped his attention to her from his hand on her stomach to her eyes. "She?"

"I have a feeling it's going to be a daughter," she replied with a smile. "Mom says that it's mother's intuition."

Mulder stared again in awe. Only moments ago, he'd just been a man, hoping to seek forgiveness from his beloved. Now, he was with this woman and she was carrying his daughter. Guilt for leaving her at all filled him like a flood and he wondered what he'd ever done to deserve this. "Your father is going to kill me, isn't he?"

Scully shifted more closely to him. "When he found out, he was upset. He nearly left the house to go out and find you. But I am my own woman and I convinced him that I would be okay, whether or not you were present. When he found you, he wasn't angry. He was so relieved, Mulder. He missed you too."

Mulder let his hand fall off her stomach. "I don't know how to make up for my mistakes."

His wrongs spanned a lifetime, starting with the moment he decided to leave Virginia. There was no way to account for them, and here he was claiming a place with her. Scully tilted her head, her eyes kind but stern. "I wish you'd stop saying that," her voice like lashes on his skin and at the same time. "I have a say in this too and I'm here choosing you. . .I want you, regardless of whatever you think you are."

Mulder did his best not to break down right there, so instead he pulled Scully close, resting his chin on her head and his hand over hers on her belly. Despite the cold he'd felt in his bones, his warmth was returning now tenfold.

"I'm never leaving again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next little section is just a lil' fun epilogue! Please comment if you liked it and thank you for reading this far!


	4. I Can't Wait Til' Then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue, set five years into the future!

Evening, Mulder-Scully Homestead  
A few miles outside Telluride, Colorado  
Late May, 1890

Mulder leaned against the post of the porch, the hat on his head keeping the sun out of his eyes. The mountains beyond too his breath away, as did the orange cast of the setting sun. A couple birds flew overhead, singing their songs, while the horses and cows grazed peacefully in the pasture near the barn. He sighed contentedly to himself; he might've once wanted to pursue those snow-capped mountains, to chase that setting sun, to find a way to continue to capture the next moment. But there was a peace in his heart now for the past five and a half years, the longest he'd ever known himself to feel as peaceful as he did. 

His eyes were focused on the stretch of yard before him, where a man on a black horse was riding up. The newcomer hitched his horse next to the house and stared up at Mulder, giving him a tip of his hat. "Mulder," he greeted. "It's good to see you."

Mulder couldn't help himself and hurried down the steps, embracing him in a hug. "It's good to see you, Walter."

"I'm sorry it took me so long to finally come see you," he said, pulling back from the embrace. "The Ranch is finally running itself, so I was able to get away."

"You've come just in time. If you head on in, my mother-in-law is finishing up dinner, she knows you're coming," Mulder told him, pointing towards the screen door. Skinner gave him a nod and with an anxious but genuine smile, headed up the stairs and into the house. Mulder smiled to himself and patted Skinner's horse, before he let his gaze drift down to the creek below the pastures. 

With a slow gait, he made his way across the tall grass. He made note of a portion of the pasture fence that was rotting. He'd have to replace that come morning. As he approached the creek bed and the three figures near it, the border collie with them raced towards him, sniffing his fingers with a controlled tail wag, before she darted back to his family. 

Scully turned to look at him, a hand on her round stomach. "I hope you're not thinking you're going to scold me for coming down here," she chided. "I told you, this is the most energetic I've felt for any of my pregnancies."

He smiled, unable to answer her as their two year old, his son William, came running at him, arms stretched upwards. "Up! Up!" He demanded. 

He swept him up into his arms, as Will began pointing to a mud stain on his shirt with a string of indistinguishable babbling. He laughed and nodded at him, before looking back at Scully. "Dinner is nearly finished and Skinner has arrived. I came down to fetch you."

"Daddy, look! I caught a slamder!"

His daughter, their first born, held up a little salamander gently, wriggling in her palms. 

Emily's bright blue eyes were identical to Scully's, though his wife proclaimed that she looked more like Missy did when they were growing up. He just replied that she was lucky she didn't get his nose. Regardless, he was wrapped around her pinky finger. When she was born, Scully and Emily had both been sickly for a month or so. Mulder had never been so stricken with fear as he was each morning, afraid he would wake to them both being gone. But with the strength of lionesses, both recovered swiftly and he wondered how he could've expected anything less. 

"That's nearly the size of Will!" He proclaimed, shaking William and coaxing a burst of giggles from him. "Dinner is ready now Em, why don't you let him go now, and you can race your mother back to the house."

Scully slapped his arm as Emily eagerly responded by hastily returning the 'slamder' and racing up to the house. "I'ma beat you, Mama!"

William surged out of Mulder's arms. "I 'anna! I 'anna!" Mulder set him down and the two year old toddled after his sister, who encouraged him to catch her. 

Mulder stretched out his elbow, which Scully took gratefully. "Think maybe this week?" Mulder asked, letting her set the pace back to the house. 

She sighed. "Oh, maybe. Will was such an easy baby to carry and deliver, I think I forgot how unfortunate these last few weeks can be."

Mulder felt a bit of alarm rise in his throat like bile. "Are you feeling alright? Maybe you should rest up tomorrow."

Scully rolled her eyes as they approached the porch. "Mulder, I just meant that I'm uncomfortable. I'm hoping that she will decide she wants to join us by the end of this week."

"She?" He asked with amusement, pausing on the porch as she caught her breath from the walk. 

Scully smirked. "I was right the past two times, wasn't I?"

Mulder smiled and leaned in to kiss her, brushing back a bit of her red hair from her face. "Well, lucky for you, I got you your very own nursemaid if she comes this week. I'm sure Skinner would love to be first to greet one of my children."

Scully laughed and he wrapped his arms around her. They looked around the porch, flowers in the front garden, horses in the field, the little black and white collie curled up on the covered porch. There was dark clouds forming on the horizon behind the mountains. "Thank you," Mulder whispered.

Her voice hummed against his chest. "For what?"

"For this life. For these kids. For giving me so much time to figure it all out."

She pressed a kiss to his chest, before a subtle shifting from her stomach decided to remind them that it was dinner time. "Let's go inside. Before that colder weather rolls in," she suggested. 

With an arm around her shoulders, he opened the screen door and guided them into the warmth of the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and leave a comment if you liked it!


End file.
